


Sing the Stars

by nekosmuse_archive (nekosmuse)



Category: Lost
Genre: M/M, Smut, Threesomes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:29:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23534590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekosmuse/pseuds/nekosmuse_archive
Summary: Written pre 2005. Posted for archival purposes.Sawyer's always been open to trying new things.
Relationships: James "Sawyer" Ford/Charlie Pace, James "Sawyer" Ford/Sayid Jarrah, Sayid Jarrah/Charlie Pace
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	Sing the Stars

"Fuck."

The razor lands somewhere in the sand, next to his feet and Sawyer curses a second time as he brings his hand to his cheek, pulling it away to stare at red tinged fingertips. It's just a small cut, but it stings all the same and Sawyer can't remember the last time shaving was this difficult. He knows, technically, there's really not a reason to shave, but his scruff itches, making him feel hot and sticky and he just wants it gone.

He blames it entirely on his lack of supplies. There's a cup of ocean water resting on one of the rocks, the salt in the water drying out his skin and making the task more difficult than it should be. It doesn't help that the only razor he could find was slightly used, not to mention bright pink, so he doesn't think it was ever meant for the contours of a man's face. He did manage to snag a travel size bottle of shaving cream from one of the bags, so it's not all bad.

The only mirror he could find was one of those compact ones, the kind that folds and is meant to rest in the palm of a hand. There's a crack running the length of the glass, splitting his reflection in two and Sawyer squints before reaching for the razor again, rinsing it in the cup before bringing it back up to his face.

"You need a hand?"

Sayid's the last person Sawyer was expecting and, for a moment, he's tempted to make some snide remark about Sayid's almost full grown beard. He doesn't, instead smirking over and trying not to imagine what he must look like, his face covered in foamy white.

"I think I got it covered, chief," he replies, smirking a second time before glancing back at his broken reflection.

"You're bleeding," Sayid comments, and Sawyer just manages not to roll his eyes as Sayid sinks into the sand by his side.

And this isn't part of the deal, because it's broad daylight and Sawyer made it very clear that what they do after dark doesn't cross over into the day. It remains unspoken at all times and the last thing he needs is Sayid trying to form some kind of friendship, some kind of bond. It doesn't stop him from remember the way Sayid trembled against him last night, or even the shadow cloaked expression on his face when he finally came between them.

Sawyer shakes the thought aside, ignoring Sayid as best he can while running the dull blade down the line of his neck. Sayid doesn't say anything, but Sawyer can feel his eyes, dark and intense and Sawyer can't help but shiver at the sensation.

"Shit."

The cut on his Adam's apple stings worse than the one of his cheek, and when Sayid laughs, Sawyer has to ball his hands into first to keep from striking out. Sayid either doesn't care, or doesn't notice, and when he reaches over, plucking the razor from Sawyer's hand, Sawyer doesn't even bother protesting. He just turns to glare at Sayid's profile, watching as Sayid rinses the razor and reaches for the shaving cream.

"And just what do you think you're doing?" Sawyer asks, giving Sayid his best impression of a man about to commit homicide, but Sayid ignores him.

"Hold still," Sayid says, like they've done this countless times before and actually trust one another.

"I don't..." The rest of the words are lost as Sayid shifts around until he's pressed against Sawyer's back, his hand snaking around Sawyer's waist, holding him close and preventing him from moving.

Part of him wants to struggle, to push Sayid away and just live with a full grown beard, because it has to better than this. But there's another part of him that's tired, and the weight of Sayid pressed against him feels good, warm and comforting in a way he doesn't want to think about. Besides, letting Sayid shave him is kind of kinky, and Sawyer's always been willing to try new things.

"If you cut me..." he begins, not bothering to finish the sentence because he knows Sayid won't.

It doesn't stop him from laughing at the feel of Sayid's smirk, pressed against his cheek and this time when Sawyer shivers, it has nothing to do with Sayid's eyes. Sayid's hands are soft as he adds to the cream already on Sawyer's face, massaging it in until there's nowhere left uncovered. It's strange, domestic in a way Sawyer always promised himself he'd never be. It doesn't stop him from leaning back, into the curve of Sayid's arm, tilting his head skyward as Sayid places the razor against his skin.

They don't speak, the only sound the soft scrap-scarp of metal against flesh as Sayid expertly moves the razor across Sawyer's face. He's good, almost too good and Sawyer resists the urge to ask Sayid just how many men he's shaved. He doesn't really want to know, and when his stomach clenches, he tells himself it's not jealousy. It can't be, because Sayid's certainly not the only guy on the island he's fucking, and he knows Sayid has interests elsewhere.

"You missed a spot."

Sawyer can't quite help but sigh at Charlie's sudden presence, glancing up to watch Charlie cross across the small clearing before sinking down until he's sitting cross-legged directly across from Sawyer. His eyes are wide and something close to lust flickers in the depths of his pupils as he watches the movement of Sayid's hand.

Charlie's another one of those guys he's fucked, more times than he can count and he's fairly certain Sayid can say the same thing. Positive if the look Charlie's giving Sayid is any indication. Sawyer can't quite help but laugh at that, shaking his head as Sayid rinses the razor and when Charlie reaches forward, brushing aside the missed patch of shaving cream, Sawyer laughs even harder and tries not to picture what the three of them would look like together.

He's thought about it, more often than he's willing to admit, and it wouldn't be the first time he's had a threesome. The first time it involved two men, rather than a guy and girl, but there's something to be said for variety. He's halfway to throwing out the suggestion when Sayid hands Charlie a small scrap of wet cloth, letting Charlie clean the shaved side of Sawyer's face.

"Smooth," Charlie comments, his fingers following the cloth, tracing absent circles and when Sawyer glances up, Charlie's eyes are wild and wide and his tongue darts out to lick at dry lips.

"We should do you next," Sayid comments, pausing to reach forward and run his fingers through Charlie's scruff.

Sawyer just manages not to groan.

He can't suppress a moan at the sight of Charlie's eyes drifting shut, his entire body tingling as Charlie turns and presses his cheek into Sayid's hand. He's hyper aware of Sayid's warmth against his back, the feel of Sayid's muscles pressing against him own as Sayid leans over his shoulder, practically caressing Charlie's cheek and Sawyer coughs before he can stop himself.

He's still not jealous, because he wants Charlie just as much as he wants Sayid, and not letting them have each other would make him a hypocrite. Still, he can't help but feel just a little bit smug when Sayid pulls his hand away, turning back to the other side of Sawyer's face to resume shaving.

He lets his eyes drift shut at the feel of the razor scratching against his skin as Sayid finishes the job. By the time he's done, Sawyer's so hard he's half afraid he might just come in his pants. He can almost picture it, but when he opens his eyes and glances down, he knows he's not the only one. The outline of an erection is quite obvious in Charlie's tight jeans and Sawyer follows its line with his eyes, pressing back into Sayid as Charlie leans forward and finishes cleaning off his face.

He knows he's not thinking clearly, arousal clouding his head until he can't think for the feel of Charlie's fingers, the warmth of Sayid's chest. Before he can stop himself, he's reaching forward, grabbing a fistful of Charlie's shirt and pulling until Charlie's sprawled across his lap. Charlie whimpers at that, the sound traveling straight to Sawyer's groin and when Sayid moans behind him, Sawyer gives up trying to convince himself this is a bad idea and surges forward, practically attacking Charlie's lips and kissing like he needs Charlie to breathe.

He feels Sayid's lips against his neck, mouth opening to suck at the soft expanse of skin between the juncture of his neck and his shoulder. Charlie's bucking against him, hips arching into the air and Sawyer releases his grip on Charlie's shirt, letting his hands fall down to Charlie's thighs, fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises.

Charlie pulls away, panting, his hands curled around Sawyer's shoulders, clenching and unclenching in time to his breathing. Sawyer's just about to lean forward again when Sayid pulls away from his shoulder with a wet pop, running his tongue along the mark Sawyer can't see but knows is there before leaning over Sawyer's shoulder, hand curling around the back of Charlie's head to pull him close, locking their lips together.

Watching two guys kiss shouldn't be this hot, but it is and, for a moment, all Sawyer can do is stare. Charlie's eyes are closed, but from his angle he can't tell if Sayid's are or not. He imagines they must be and when Sayid moans, Sawyer shifts against the sudden pressure in his jeans. He feels only slightly awkward, Sayid draped over his back, Charlie pressed against his front, his weight heavy on Sawyer's legs. He feels like a voyeur, like he's invading a private moment and before Sawyer can rationalize the emotion, he's pulling them apart, reclaiming Charlie's lips before Charlie even manages to catch his breath.

He breaks away with effort, tilting his head to find Sayid watching them from over Sawyer's shoulder. Sayid's eyes are glazed, dark circles holding nothing but want and Sawyer smirks before twisting back to kiss Sayid. Sayid kisses nothing like Charlie; Charlie's all want and need, messy press of lips that leaves Sawyer wanting things he doesn't have a name for. Sayid's soft and commanding, tongue and lips moving like kissing is an art that he's somehow managed to perfect. Sawyer can't decide which he likes better, but he thinks maybe he needs both.

He's still kissing Sayid, his head light from lack of oxygen when he feels Charlie's hands fumbling beneath his shirt, pulling at clothing and Sawyer breaks the kiss long enough to let Charlie pull his shirt over his head. What he really wants to do is lose the jeans, because they're tight and constricting, but before he can make the suggestion, Sayid's kissing him again. Sawyer opens his eyes long enough to watch Charlie ditching his own shirt, the sight blurred and Sawyer can't quite decide if it's real or imagined. He doesn't really care, though, because Sayid's hand is pressed against Charlie's chest, stroking almost absently and suddenly they're all wearing too many clothes.

Sawyer pushes against Sayid's shoulder, the only part of his body he can reach given the angle, and when Sayid pulls back, his lips are red and swollen and Sawyer can't help but feel just a little bit proud. He twists long enough to help Sayid pull his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere in the vicinity of the shaving cream before leaning forward to lick a stripe down Sayid's chest. Somewhere behind him he hears Charlie purr.

And then Charlie's hands are on him, fingers tracing over his chest, and when Charlie pinches a nipple, Sawyer moans and bites one of Sayid's ribs. The sun is just setting, and even though they're far enough away from the main camp on the beach, Sawyer can't help but feel relieved at the sudden onset of darkness. He knows the chances of someone stumbling upon them are rare, but he doesn't want to chance it.

The thought dissipates at the feel of hands at the waistband of his jeans, fumbling with his button and he can't tell if it's Charlie or Sayid. He tells himself it doesn’t matter, but when he glances down, finding Sayid's dark, long fingers, he can't up but thrust up against them. He thinks Charlie laughs, but before he can register the sound, his own hands are reaching for Charlie's jeans.

He cups Charlie's erection, squeezing just hard enough to get a moan before the sound is cut off and Sawyer realizes Sayid's kissing Charlie again. This time he doesn't watch, concentrating instead on getting Charlie's jeans undone, noticing Sayid's pants pushed just past his hips and Sawyer wonders whether he took them off himself, or if Charlie did. Even that doesn't matter, though, because Sayid breaks the kiss, turning to finish undoing Sawyer's jeans and Sawyer whimpers as Sayid finally frees his cock.

He's only vaguely aware of Charlie standing, sliding out his jeans and underwear and when he finally finds the sand again, Sayid's just managed to free Sawyer from the confines of his clothes. Charlie and Sawyer work in unison to get Sayid undressed, their clothes forming a small pile just out of sight and Sawyer's almost tempted to suggest they spread them out, use them as a makeshift blanket.

He doesn't get the chance to make the suggestion, Charlie once again straddling his lap, fusing their lips together and Sawyer moans at the feel of Sayid's hands tracing circles against his chest. When he opens his eyes, pulling back from Charlie, Charlie's between them, Sayid pressed against Charlie's back and Charlie plastered to Sawyer's front. It makes him wonder about the logistics of this, but then Charlie's shifting down, crawling backward until his head is resting on Sawyer's thigh, his ass in the air.

And this is workable, because Sawyer can see Sayid just overtop of Charlie, his hands resting on either side of Charlie's ass, spreading his cheeks wide and Sawyer moans when Sayid leans forward, his tongue darting out and disappearing into the cleft of Charlie's ass.

Charlie curses, bucking forward and Sawyer knows Sayid's tongue is pressed inside, working Charlie open and before Sawyer can think, he's grabbing Charlie's head, guiding Charlie's mouth to his cock, never once taking his eyes off Sayid. Sawyer thrusts at the first feel of Charlie's tongue, his hands tightening in Charlie's hair and when Charlie shifts on his elbows, getting a hand up under Sawyer's balls, Sawyer moans and pushes against Charlie's lips.

He doesn't want to come first, but when Charlie opens his mouth, letting Sawyer sink into all that tight, wet heat, Sawyer gives up the pretense that he can last. He feels Charlie whimper around him, the sound vibrating through his body and Sawyer watches as Sayid pulls away, kneeling behind Charlie's ass and Sawyer's eyes go wide as Sayid positions himself at Charlie's entrance. Charlie shudders, moaning loud enough to send tingles of pleasure rushing straight to Sawyer's spine as Sayid pushes inside.

He knows from experience that Sayid is gentle, firm and yet completely aware of everything going on with Charlie's body. It doesn't surprise him when Charlie bucks back, wanting just a little bit more, the movement causing Sawyer's dick to slip out of his mouth. He doesn't bother pushing back inside, just letting Charlie pant against his leg before slipping out from beneath him, moving around until he's kneeling behind Sayid.

Sayid glances at him from over his shoulder, smiling something close to permission and Sawyer doesn't bother with the prep work before spitting on his hand, coating his cock and spreading Sayid's cheeks. They don't do this often, and the sight of Sayid's hole, tight and dark, makes Sawyer's cock twitch almost painfully. He doesn't give Sayid warning before pushing inside, hearing Sayid's muffled moan and Charlie's sudden intake of air.

Sayid doesn't start moving against until Sawyer's buried to the hilt, his entire body shaking and trembling before he finally thrusts forward, into Charlie and than back against Sawyer. Eventually they find a rhythm, the three of them moving like one single entity and when Sawyer's balls constrict, his entire body tensing, he curses himself for not lasting. It doesn't matter, though, because as soon as he comes he feels Sayid tense, trembling through his own orgasm and a minute later, Charlie moans and the sound of wet come hits the sand.

Sawyer pulls free before collapsing onto the ground, feeling Sayid settle next to him a moment later. Charlie's laughing again.

"You think that's funny?" Sawyer can't help but ask, his words breathless as he struggles to get his body back under control.

"Just wondering why the hell we didn't try this sooner," Charlie responds, his words muffled and when Sawyer leans up on his elbows, he notices Charlie face down in the sand.

Sawyer doesn't say anything, but he smiles down at Sayid. Sayid smiles back and he knows this won't be the last time the three of them help each other shave.


End file.
